


Dance With Me

by DeerWorks



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Romance, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-18 22:41:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20320699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeerWorks/pseuds/DeerWorks
Summary: Takes place after 8x03. During the feast.





	Dance With Me

**Author's Note:**

> Scene from one of my other fics plopped into the main cannon.

Everyone ate quietly and solemnly in the great hall. They had won but it didn’t feel as if they had. Very few remained of Daenerys’ khalasar, her she still had half of her Unsullied which wouldn’t be nearly enough, Rhaegal was battered and unable to fly straight, and the North and Vale had suffered severe losses as well.

Tyrion who would normally be drinking himself to death was simply sitting by his brother, one hand on his cheek as he traced circles with his finger on the table. Sansa was sharing polite conversation with her sister but there was absolutely nothing joyful about it. And Jon, Jon was nowhere to be seen. His seat in the middle of the table was unoccupied and Daenerys couldn’t help but feel a twinge of anxiety and what was to happen to them now that they knew the truth.

He was already so distant the day before and that alone was pure torture, she couldn’t bear that for the rest of her life. She hadn’t even been able to hold him close and truly process that he was alive and he was here, not one of the bodies that had been lain on the many pyres they burned that day. He had always been pulled away to help injured men or do some other warden duty before she could talk to him.

While people were now engaged in quiet conversation they still seemed too depressed for her liking and she wished to lighten the mood a little.

She rose to her feet and everyone took notice and quieted down. “I wish to propose a toast to Arya Stark,” she started. Everyone around seemed slightly surprised, especially Sansa. “All of Westeros owes their lives to her, slayer of the Night King and the hero of Winterfell.” She finished as she raised her cup and everyone rose to their feet to cheer for the young Stark as Arya looked to Daenerys with admiration.

The older of the two sisters rose to her feet, motioning for everyone to quiet down so she could offer her own speech and Daenerys feared for what words would come from that mouth, to her surprise it wasn’t negative. “A toast to Queen Daenerys, we all owe our lives to her as well. We would not be here if not for her dragons and armies,” she said.

“And her,” Arya coughed.

Everyone, even the Vale and the Northerners cheered. It wasn’t as loud as they cheered for Arya but it wasn’t fake. They showed gratitude to her and Daenerys finally began feeling welcome in this strange land. There was a loud smash beside her as she turned surprised, seeing the wildling she learned was Tormund rising to his feet with ale dripping from his ragged beard.

“We’re alive! Let’s fucking celebrate!” he screamed. Conversation started to pick up now and everyone started to drink more. She would have spoken to Missandei but she was unfortunately absent from the dinner, most likely with Grey Worm. She would have spoken with Tyrion but she chose to leave him to his fun. There was really only one she really wanted to talk to but he wasn’t here.

There was still far too much they needed to talk about but right now she just wanted to be with Jon. Just celebrate their being alive. She looked to her right, to his empty seat. They should be laughing and drinking. She should be peppering his face with kisses and telling him how happy she is that he’s alive, or rather showing him. And yet he wasn’t here and all she could think of is what he told her in the crypts. Perhaps he was choosing to avoid her once again instead of facing her and confronting their problems together.

Instead he was probably in his chambers, drinking alone and hearing the cheers from there. Suddenly music began playing and various couples flocked to the middle of the floor to dance.  _ We should be there too. I should be dancing with him right now. _

Absentmindedly she scanned the room. Seeing Tyrion playing some sort of drinking game with Jaime, Brienne, and Podrick. Tormund telling some absurd tail of having sexual relations with a bear. Arya telling a rather disturbing tale of how she slaughtered house Frey. Daenerys prayed she was just far too in her cups and those weren’t the actual details. 

And finally when she looked to the door she saw him. His raven black curls were tied back, only she got to see them untied. He had a cup in his hand as he leaned against the door frame, he wasn’t speaking to anyone or really drinking from his cup. His grey eyes were only focused on hers with a slight smile that was reserved only for her, still only for her. He raised his cup as she did before when she gave her toast as he turned and left out the door.

She sat there for a moment not knowing if she wanted to follow him and have this conversation. She was scared of being told that they couldn’t be together anymore, that she would have to share her bed alone for the rest of her days because she knew if he was no longer hers then she would have no one else ever again.

She was pulled from these thoughts by a tap on her shoulder. When she turned she saw the fiery red hair of the Lady of Winterfell. She looked from Daenerys to the door and raised an eyebrow at her. “Why are you still sitting here? Shouldn’t you be celebrating?”

Daenerys gave a polite smile as she rose from her seat began to exit the Great Hall. This was possibly the hardest thing she’d ever had to do and it was simply taking a few steps. When she opened the door she half expected to see nothing, to find that Jon had returned to his quarters. But instead she found him leaning against a post sipping his ale.

His gaze was turned towards the ground as he studied the snow. But when he looked up he gave her a genuine smile which surprised her. Even so she just had to be sure. “Are you drunk?”

“No,” he said as he placed his drink on a stable fence. When he approached her he didn’t stumble which helped assure Daenerys that they could have a truthful conversation.

Before she could speak he scooped her up in her arms and held her so tight she swore she was going to break a rib. She returned his embrace just as strongly and felt the urge to sob into his shoulder. She felt the slight reassurance that they might be able to get past the revelation.

When he released her he placed his forehead against hers and they just sat there for a moment listening to each others breaths before he finally spoke. “So,” he said. “We’re alive.”

“Yes, we are alive,” Daenerys laughed.

He gave her a small kiss on her forehead. She felt slightly disappointed that it wasn’t directed towards her lips pushed it aside for now. “We need to talk.”

“Aye, we probably should.”   
  


Daenerys took a deep breath before she asked. “How do you feel?”

Jon hesitated for a moment. “Angry, sad, confused. A lot of things. I’m angry at my father for never telling me. Never letting me know that the mother I longed to know laid right beneath my feet and I could have seen her whenever I pleased. I’m sad that I will never know her. Never know that warmth of meeting the woman I can call mother.”

“And you said you were confused?”

“I- I don’t know who I am. I don’t want to be King and sit on that throne of swords, I never have and I never will. I’ve always wanted to be a Stark but knowing who I really am now makes me wonder if that’s really for the best. I’m starting to think I’d just prefer staying a bastard.”

Daenerys placed a hand on his chest and looked into his eyes. “Who do you want to be?”

He took a moment to contemplate his answer. “I don’t know.”

“Well,” Daenerys said. “We’ve done everything together so far. We’ll do this together too.”

“Aye,” Jon whispered. “Together.”

“So, what does that mean for us?” Daenerys was sure that he meant to stay now. Even still, she needed him to say it.

He didn’t answer for a moment and Daenerys became worried that it meant they were no more. But when she started to release her grip on him he simply held her tighter. “Dany, I can’t promise that we’ll be right back to the way things were before. It’s a lot to accept but I want to try.”

While she felt slightly disappointed it was helped that this wasn’t over, he was at least willing to try. Their faces started drawing closer together and as they were about to meet they were interrupted by the feeling of something cold and wet falling on Daenerys’ nose.

When she opened her eyes and looked up it had started snowing all around them. It wasn’t a downpour, they fell slowly and peacefully around them. She looked to Jon and saw that the snow was now sticking to his raven black hair, placing flecks of white on top.

“I guess this would be the first time you’ve seen snow without the threat of the army of the dead,” Jon said.

“Yes,” she mumbled. “It’s beautiful.”

“It is.”

They stood there content as they watched snow envelop the castle grounds and each other. While the snow blended with Daenerys’ hair Jon’s became white like a Targaryen. Which brought her back to that subject.

“Jon, what about the throne?”

“That’s tomorrow's problem. For now, let’s just be happy we’re alive.”

The music in the hall began to play slower for people to dance. They could hear it through the doors and Jon looked down and smiled towards her. “Dance with me,” he said as he grasped her by the waist.

She rested her head against his chest as they moved to the beat of the music and the beat of his heart, thumping in his chest. They swayed back and forth alone in the courtyard. Tomorrow they would decide what they must do with Cersei. Tonight they were alive.

  
  



End file.
